We fight for the fine places we make in this world

This blog is where I come when I feel a soapbox moment happening, or to loose an idea or to rage over some miniature catastrophe with tongue firmly planted in one cheek while the vodka drenched olives hold tightly to the other. And then last week happened, and so I don’t feel much like camping out as Cayman Thorn today.

There was little Nichole Kristine Cable, who we came to know inside the desperate hours of her too short life. She only got fifteen years because a sick bastard lied her away from the house, and there’s no way you can wrap your head around this case without wanting to scream. My initial reaction is to curse the door that our connected world has opened. But I realize it’s not that easy. I realize that the worst laid plans of people do not concern themselves with convenience so much as they concern themselves with doing bad things, no matter the avenue they have to take to get there.

My reasoning self was justified and my scream stifled when I witnessed the rolled up sleeves I found across WordPress during the search for Nichole. Bloggers pressing their re-blog button, and showing me why a virtual neighborhood can matter every bit as much as the white picket fence variety. Hey, the only sense this world really makes, is that which we give to it.

What happened in Oklahoma is a humbling reminder that we don’t have the last word, despite our top of the food chain existence. Because the truth is, Mother Nature’s name is on the deed and we’re just renting. The proof of this was supplied by pictures of a town that went the way of a bad science fiction ending. And so it was heartening to see all the help that moved in just as swiftly as the tornado which had taken so much away. Cayman Thorn and I would agree on one count. Give.

I’ve never been to Colorado, but I have a solid education on the place thanks to a gal who possesses more back story on the Rocky Mountains than Sacajawea. Susie Lindau is a renaissance woman of the hottest order, with a To Do list that runs chapters long and never goes stale. She’s a one woman band, whose wild ride blog treats readers to heaping spoonfuls of love on everything from skiing to tennis to Christmas card making.

Susie shared her reality with all of us in a post this week. And I can’t go somber on this, because if I do, she’s going to fly in simply to kick my ass and fly back out. And there is nothing worse than having to pick someone up at the airport just so they can kick your ass.

Kicking ass is what Susie is going to be doing to the C word. Seriously, you mess with the bull, you get the horns AND Colorado, AND Danny. And all of us.  If you need more backup than that? You’re a shit screenwriter rehashing an ’80s cop show who’s hogging up all the Wi-Fi at your 7-11, so nuke that Hot Pocket and take the Asst Managers job at Target already!

As for backup, we got your back, Susie. All of us, from here to there and every other single place in between.

We love you. Much and always. For teaching us the one simple thing in a world gone mad.

Love wins.

Three for one means you have to buy all three

Okay, here’s another one of those “I get by with a little help from my friends” wordpress prompts. I swear, these people are the Mick of open source publishing. So inspirational and so absurd, all in the same heaping helping.

I decided to go all Twitter on this condensed challenge by finishing up my post in 140 words or less. I think that’s what Twitter calls for, but maybe I’m thinking about the total number of words spoken during a typical Hugh Hefner relationship.

Describe the longest road trip you’ve ever taken- I’m still living it.

What are you good at remembering?– Mistakes.

How do you feel about public speaking?– As long as it’s not a politician, I’m all for it.

There, all done and with a few words to spare. Hugh Hefner would be proud, if he was still alive.


I’m just silly with these little prompts the WordPress folks are stapling to the back of our published posts.

Here’s a challenge I had stuck in my draft folder for a spell. This one fell under the premise You are now in charge of writing fortune cookie messages . . .Hmmm, doesn’t sound like much of a prompt to me. I guess you have to pay extra for the good stuff, maybe?

Anyways, here are a few of my fortune cookie bents. If I was in charge of such a thing.

– Fall down seven times, stay the hell down already

– You have good instincts, so why are you married?

– Negative attitude to waiter makes for bitter wonton

– Man has two noodles. One which thinks and one which thinks for him

– You will inherit a large sum of money, so tip well

– A journey of a thousand miles begins by shopping airfares online

– You have many hidden talents. Do you play for the Mets?

– Maintain your inner child, without pissing in your pants

– Love conquers all, except STD’s

– Dog is man’s best friend. And he picks any team but the Eagles

-A good friend listens, a great friend helps you hide the body (Not sure if I heard this one somewhere before. But it’s true, right? Not that I uh, ever did anything like that . . .)

– Good fences make good neighbors. Guns take care of the rest

– Luck is result of hard work. Unless you’re Paris Hilton.

– Love is forever, if you don’t want to pay alimony.

Summer movies, cupcakes and prompt replies

I must admit, these little writing prompts WordPress has been handing out are growing on me. As an added challenge, I decided to answer the questions in three words or less.

But before I get to that, with the extra space I’ll kick in with a few observations from my day.

@Why do people insist on having conversations even when they’re not having one? (Voicemail joke) Call it that compulsive little bric a brac of the human condition which sounds something like “So . . . okay. Call me then cool? Alright, great. talk to you later. Hey! Say hi to BEEP!”

@You know why I will always prefer pulp over pixels when it comes to books? Well, the answer came in loud and chlorinated when I witnessed a poor soul drop his e-book into the pool. It was horrible. I felt so bad for the guy. But I also felt better for the paperback loving fool I’m always gonna be.

@Click on the radio dial in the car and the Talking Heads are Burning down the House. That’s called a summertime powerball win.

@There are six hundred checkout lines at my supermarket, six of which are self service. Where do ya think everyone gravitates to? Let me put it this way. The cashiers better start looking for other gigs, even if they’re invisible at present.

@I quick threw together a roasted red pepper pasta salad that I found out of a year old edition of a Food Network mag. I was going to leave the link here for anyone interested but I couldn’t find the dot.com answer. If you want the recipe, email me. Seriously, it’s a summer beauty.

@My daughter chased that meal with a ditty she coined as summer corn cupcakes topped with a spicy delicious chocolate chili frosting. It was off the hook. She has this idea she’ll be on Cupcake Wars one day. And if so, it’ll be the only episode I watch/host. She bakes and I cook. Which means I did something right after all.

@Tried my hand at this Sims3 game the girl raves about. It didn’t work for me, being as my perfect world blueprint had me planted on that little island out of Castaway with Vera Farmiga and a .357 Magnum. I was packing heat just in case Tom Hanks came calling on my forever after picnic.

@Being an uncle means never having to stick the landing. When my sister comes to pick up my niece tomorrow, I might have some ‘splainin to do. Until then it’s all about sugar comas, the Talking Heads, ghost stories and staying up late.

@I am a huge fan of Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and I gotta tell you. The Americanized cinematic version of the Stieg Larsson trilogy is gonna have some huge hurdles to jump just to finish in a dead heat with the original flicks. I don’t think there’s a chance in hell they beat them.

Okay then, the daily review is over. Here’s the quick shot on my prompt replies.

In your experience, what town has the most friendly

Mayberry R.F.D.

Who’s the last person you had a really great conversation


When (if ever) is it okay to cheat?

Your last meal.

Summer’s not done yet, kids.

My prompt reply

I got a fun little list of writing prompts from WordPress and decided to play along in a manner of speaking. Here’s the one I chose . . .

Imagine that you’re blind, but you have been granted one day to see. What day would you choose?

If I was seven years old, this would’ve been an easy one but at forty something, this isn’t so much a question as an accusation. I’m being asked to leave my entire life on the cutting room floor and choose one day? One day is a pretty complicated request. So, while I dig the Zen aspect of the question for its theoretical abandon, I’m too superstitious to stamp one day to my passport.

My first game at Yankee Stadium? The Yanks lost to a really crappy A’s team. My father engaged in verbal fisticuffs with a guy several rows in front of us. Actually, I think being blind would’ve made this day more memorable than it was.

Losing my virginity? It lasted maybe three minutes after which she kicked me out. What would I do with the other 23 hours and 57 minutes?

-The first time I ‘primed the pump’? Mom had warned me I was going to go blind if I did that. I wouldn’t want to push my luck.

-Graduating High School? Which time?

The birth of my kids? I went temporarily blind on both occasions, and I was okay with that.

My wedding day? Or the day I signed divorce papers?

-The first time I laid eyes on Vera Farmiga? That would be really creepy if I remembered the actual date. I do recall it was Saturday afternoon at 2:31, it was an unseasonably warm day for March, 62 degrees. Umm, anyway . . .

The best kiss ever? It was New Years Eve and I was a little tipsy. Someone told me it was Johnny Depp, and that’s really as much as I wanna know.